Properly
by Jane Bell
Summary: ...A kiss, a true, real, loving kiss nothing more appropriated for an engagement party, for their party was just starting... Willabeth


_Disclaimer: All characters to the half-naked, very cute, little mouse. Not copyright stolen, comandeered or privateered, I'm just borrowing without permission..._

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**Properly**

Dull. There could not possibly be any other definition for it, but for utterly, totally, completely, ultimately _dull_.

Elizabeth sat in the living room, five women surrounding her, steaming teacups on the tea table, a damnable corset robbing her breath and, oh dear, the heat! They were on the Caribbean, for goodness's sake, so why was that damn fireplace alight?

"Oh, darling Elizabeth!" Kitty said joyfully whilst sipping her tasteless mate with milk. "It was indeed a wonderful idea, this tea party!"

"Certainly!" agreed her sister Lydia with equal excitement. "So much better than a ball, so casual…"

"Yes, yes, it is," Stella dared to say, earning reproachful looks from the ladies. "A fine idea for such a fine, smart match."

"Now, now, _maid_," Jane sneered at Stella's un-embroidered dress. "A fine man, Mr. Turner it, but surely Elizabeth could-"

"Jane, don't!" Mary whispered almost threateningly and with a warning on her face. "Given the circumstances, I believe Mr. Turner is in truth very kind to accept her."

"Accept me?" Elizabeth asked offended. She knew where this little conversation was going, and it was nowhere pleasing. "Mary, I've already told you all that-"

"Of course, Elizabeth," Kitty patted her hands with sympathy. "We know you don't want to talk about such things, but now you're getting married!" she smiled sweetly as if saying Elizabeth's life had just been saved.

"They didn't sully me!" she said exasperated. "How many times must I repeat, those pirates were _cursed_!"

The four well-bred ladies exchanged apprehensive glances, foul glances filled with pity for her sorry situation. Stella started some off-hand conversation about the weather with Lydia, Jane called for more tea and Mary gossiped about a fifth lady who had not been able to attend Elizabeth's engagement tea party.

The gathering preceded merrily, their hostess sighing every now and then, nodding when asked something unimportant and casting hopeful eyes towards her father's study. Will was certainly there with her father and some other men, these ladies' fiancés or husbands and some other guests. He was probably as unearthingly bored as she was, if not more. She knew he had vowed not to drink after their adventure with pirates, and him and all of the guests were likely around a fine bottle of brandy, exchanging fake laughs and sweetened pleasantries.

Fancy, fancy, fancy.

Time stretched, yawned, and crawled lazily by. Miss Cramford sure had an affair with the stable boy, Mrs. Tollermain's children were so adorable ("We hope yours will be too, Elizabeth!" Stella had said, only to earn more reproachful looks for not calling her "miss"), the Turners were invited to Kitty's debutant ball the following month, and, dear Christ, was it true it was going be an orchid bouquet? How lovely!

At long last, the study's door was opened by her father, leading the men out. Fancy farewells, polite smiles, light bows, one quiet get-out-of-here. Will was the last to leave the adjacent chamber, the most forced smile Elizabeth had ever seen plastered on his face.

They exchanged glances then. His was screaming to be rid of those sires and hers to never again acquaintance those empty-headed dolls. Stella closed the door after Jane and her husband had left and Elizabeth let out a relieved sigh as she let herself drop on the couch.

"Finally!" she said loudly, not caring if her guests heard her outside.

"It sure was a pleasant reunion," her father smiled at her and turned to Will. "Would you join us for supper, Mr. Turner? I am sure it would delight our tired lady here."

"Very kind of you, Governor Swann," Will thanked him and looked apologetically at his fiancé, "but I must return to the smithy. Mr. Brown has not been well as of late, I must secure he is taken care of."

"Oh, Will, _please_," Elizabeth breathed with difficulty through the corset's merciless strings. "We hardly saw each other today and-"

"This is not the proper time, Elizabeth," Governor Swann censured her and waved a hand at Will so he would leave without delay. "Maybe tomorrow, after church."

"After church?" the girl pouted and Will knelt beside her, caressing her cheek lightly. "I'll have to wait that long?"

The Governor coughed and Stella smiled. Will was looking into her eyes upside down with a smugly, pirate-like grin playing across his features, and Elizabeth definitely was loving it.

"Worry not," he told her with a wink. "_Shakespearean love_ such as ours shan't diminish by a day's absence."

She giggled as to camouflage his suggestion and kissed his lips lightly, wished him a pleasant evening and sent her regards to Mr. Brown. Will bid farewell respectfully to her father and as a friend and alibi to Stella. A promising smile was all she got before the door was closed after him.

"Oh, so charming, isn't he, Miss?" Stella said quietly but sweetly.

"A bit too bold, if you ask me," the Governor said sounding tired. "Frankly, Elizabeth, what a choice you have made…"

"Oh, father," the girl whirled around with the lightest and most truthful smile she had worn that day. "It must be the best choice I've ever made!"

Weatherby Swann sighed in defeat. "To what lengths will I go to spoil you further?" he smiled while smoothing her hair fondly. "I offered him a post as my assistant today."

"You did?" she asked surprised. She knew her father did not quite approve of Will, so offering him a job was something to muse over.

"He declined it," her father said as they sat at the dinning table and boiling soup was served. "Humbly, I might add. He said he was no political man, joked that he would not allow you to starve as long as he lived," he finished as though Will's joke had not been funny in the slightest.

Supper transpired warmly, although a bit discomforting due to the awful heat, but good nonetheless. She enjoyed having meals with her father; he was always such good, inspiring company. Also, she found it hard to contain her silly smiling. Shakespearean love, he had said, just imagine it, Shakespearean love…

A goodnight kiss on her father's forehead later, Stella helped her out of her suffocating attire and into a freshly-washed, thin nightgown.

"Alright, Miss," the maid winked at her. "Should I see that the Governor sleeps in the room downstairs?"

"Yes, that would certainly lessen our risks," Elizabeth smiled. "Thank you, Stella."

"Not for that, Miss," she gave a small bow. "Are you sure you don't want me to come help you with the new cottage next week?"

"Oh, Stella," Elizabeth sighed. "Even if I don't live here anymore father won't send you back to England…" she lowered her eyes, unused to what she was about to say. "Will and I couldn't possibly afford to have a maid."

"Miss Swann," Stella said while making the bed, her voice sounding earnest. "What I meant is, should you need the help of a friend, I'd be happy to oblige."

That shook her. Elizabeth was in a loss of words for a moment, blinking with her mouth agape until a joyous smiled led her to embrace the other lady – for, in her eyes, Stella was no less and much more than that.

"I should go now," Stella told her. "As soon as your father has retired to bed I shall inform Mr. Turner you wait for him."

"Thank you."

Elizabeth was left alone, sitting on her fluffy bed in the low candlelight and the bright moon shining through the window. How long until her father was asleep? Not long, surely, he sounded very tired when they talked. Soon their plan (hers, Will's and Stella's) would be put into action, if not already.

A small rock hit her window, causing her to run to the balcony. Peering down, she found laughing dark eyes looking up at her from the garden, a long rope and a hook at their owner's feet.

"Look there at the window," he said quietly, although loud enough for her to hear. "It is the moon, and my Elizabeth is the sun…"

"That's not the line, you know," she teased with a smile.

"She talks!" he continued as if she was playing along. "Talk more, my pirate princess, so I can get caught and be hanged for invading the Governor's mansion!"

"And for kidnapping his only daughter!"

"I heard that this afternoon," he told her whilst preparing to throw the hook and climb. "Sir Winfred and Admiral Delavan seem to think you'll be enslaved."

"Their wives share the opinion I'll starve!" she chuckled whilst helping him up. "Lydia was about to suggest I married the baker so there'd at least be water and bread on my table everyday!"

"See, this is the problem with your acquaintances," he climbed easily up. "You couldn't possibly marry the baker."

"And why not?"

"Firstly," he said when finally reaching the balcony, "the Commodore would have me hanged." He rolled up the rope. "Secondly, because your father would have me _and_ the Commodore hanged. Thirdly, because Port Royal's baker is a _woman_."

"Oh," she grinned as he embraced her by the waist. "Not my fancy, then."

"No, I imagine not."

His nimble fingers fondled her hair, the smoothest and finest thing he had laid his hands on that day. She kept her loving eyes on his for a while until her ever-short patience ran out and their lips smacked together. A kiss, a true, real, loving kiss; nothing more appropriated for an engagement party, for _their_ party was just starting.

"So," she said as they parted and kept their foreheads together. "You are going to kidnap, enslave and starve me," she patted his nose with her tiniest finger.

"So I am told," he sighed. "The Governor offered me a job. Said I'd have his in a couple of years."

"From governor's daughter to governor's wife, I'm flattered," she joked, but in the dark Will did not get the hint of humour in her voice or her ironic smile.

"I declined it," he said resigned. "I couldn't possibly be governor, I am no-"

"Political man, I know," she interrupted him by caressing his cheek. "Father told me already, and I am glad you declined it. I couldn't stand wearing corsets for another lifetime, please."

"The lack of corsets sounds wonderful," he smiled eyeing her suggestively as they entered her room, which was a bit brighter than outside, "but they won't be the only things lacking."

"I thought we were through with this conversation," she said stuffing a pillow so they could sit comfortably on her bed. "I don't mind living with less."

"That's what you say now," he said bitterly. "In a month or two you'll-"

"Have learned how to sweep properly," she kissed his cheek. "And to do the washing and to make the bed and, hopefully, to cook."

"You'd better," he smiled at her. "I almost set fire to the cottage last time Mrs. Brown asked me to help her with lunch…"

"Stella offered to help me with the chores," Elizabeth told him as she nestled herself in his arms. "I guess I'll accept it."

A small kiss was placed amidst her hair as her arm was warmly caressed. Will was content, very content to say the least. There was no need to ask her if she had second thoughts about their marriage, for her actions proved she had none. It was love he saw sparkling in her eyes before he claimed her lips again, a look he did not know he mirrored.

It was a different kiss that time, a more demanding type of kiss, the one which revealed so much more than shy words usually did. The revelation, however, was no surprise at all: they desired each other. In spite of himself, Will pulled away and shushed her when she was about to ask why.

"Not tonight," he told her despite the evident want in his voice. "Save it for the wedding night."

"Save what?" she asked after biting his finger away from her mouth. "No modesty of mine, surely."

"Elizabeth, darling," he smiled rather shyly, a bit of that young, naïve blacksmith apprentice surfacing over the pirate who had climbed her window. "For now, let us wait just another week."

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder?" she asked somewhat with mirth. "Or is it the body that grows eager?"

"Both, maybe," he said as he picked he wondering hand away from his hip.

"You're a spoilsport, did you know?"

"You happen to love me regardless of it, not?"

"Doubtlessly," she nuzzled her face in the crook of his neck, smelling the herbal scent of his recently-washed hair. It was soothing, one innocent pleasure she knew she would allow herself everyday very soon.

"Then you better sleep now, future Mrs. Turner," he kissed her lips sweetly as to leave. "It has been a long, tiring day for you."

"No," she held him close so he would not sit up. "Stay with me a while longer, please…"

"That shall be a beautiful early morning view for your father," he chuckled, "me jumping off your window and running through the garden for dear life."

"Waking up with you beside me could be the most beautiful early morning view I've had in years!" Elizabeth sighed. "Stella will cover up for us, and I don't usually come down for breakfast before eight…" she played with his beard, a suggestiveness in her tone and gaze that made Will forget everything agreed upon the matter 'saving' for some other night. "You could creep _down_stairs early morning, _go outside,_ ring the doorbell, _come in again,_ say you forgot your hat, then I'd politely ask you to stay do breakfast. Father won't even notice you never left."

Something unnameable about her eyes, wondering hands and whispered ideas had him agreeing vehemently and sweeping her over with a wildly playful kiss.

"What am I going to do with you once we marry, Elizabeth?"

"Exactly what you're doing now," she told him smiling. "Only then it'll be proper."

"Isn't it now?"

"As far as my experience goes, it couldn't be any more."

It was wrong, he thought. It was wrong and improper, shameful even. It was not something a real gentleman would do with his bride before their wedding, let alone a respectful blacksmith. However, as Elizabeth reminded him in muffled moans, it did not matter, at least for them who were no gentleman and lady or blacksmith and his bride. They loved each other as much as they could and expected nothing back.

They were pirates.


End file.
